


a falling star fell from your heart

by luminouspoes (rosesmallow)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Banter, Dancing, First Kiss, Fluff, Multi, Mutual Pining, Undercover Missions, Undercover as a Couple, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29149971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesmallow/pseuds/luminouspoes
Summary: While on a mission to retrieve data for the Resistance, Poe and the Reader have to pretend to be a couple.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Reader
Kudos: 27





	a falling star fell from your heart

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous requested "you're lucky you're cute" + poe over on tumblr! hope you enjoy this mess of my favorite tropes!

“There’s one thing I hate more than the First Order,” Poe murmurs as you both take in the scene before you: golden floors and walls, people dressed in gaudy outfits that you can’t begin to imagine how they got into, and the sound of slot machines running wild. “Places like this.”

You’re keen to agree as you tug self-consciously at your own outfit. It was a deep red suit and was the least flashy thing you could find to wear. It hugs you nicely, but you’d forgone the tie or ascot that was supposed to go with it and keep the top few buttons undone so you can breathe. 

Meanwhile, beside you, Poe looks - well, not to borrow a page from Maz’s book, but he looks _dashing_. He’d dragged out the tux he’d worn to that party he’d crashed with Finn and Suralinda back while you were on Ryloth with the others. He looks good in it, but it’s also surreal to see him in something so fancy. You’ve known him for years, and seeing him out of a flight suit or his favored tunic and leather jackets is a mind-trip.

It’s not a bad different though, no....not at all -

You snap your gaze away from him, cheeks warm. It was an _annoying_ different though. “I don’t like this any more than you do, but...all we gotta do is find the central terminal here, let me do my thing, and then we’re out.” You whisper back to him; another reason for your choice of outfit was the set of slicing tools you needed to hide. You couldn’t take BB-8 on the mission with you, he stood out too much and was too easily recognizable, but you weren’t one of the Resistance’s best hackers for nothing.

“Right,” Poe mutters, splaying his hand on the small of your back as you move through the crowd, “In and out.”

You try to focus on the fountain of champagne you pass, or the dazzling chandeliers or even the catchy song that the live band is playing, but instead all you can focus on is the warmth seeping in through the fabric of your suit as Poe continues to guide you along, not dropping his hand from your back.

It’s your own fault really. The only identification you and Connix had time to whip up for the mission was that of a married couple, so the closeness was _necessary_. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to lack personal space - Poe was a generally affectionate guy, and you enjoyed the attention - but there was something _different_ about this. You were both away from the Resistance, looking like neither of you usually did, hiding behind guises that were married.

“Over there,” Poe’s voice is barely above a whisper, breath fanning along the shell of your ear as he leans in to avoid being heard by anyone. You follow his line of sight and see a doorway just behind where the live band is playing. It isn’t guarded, but it’s going to be difficult to get in without being spotted by anyone - which would raise some questions.

Your gaze slides back over to Poe, eyes raking over his suit, and you remember your cover story. Or maybe it wouldn’t. You offer him your hand with a flourish, “Dance with me, love.”

Poe’s brow creases in confusion, so you shoot him a _go with it_ expression, and he slowly takes your hand. You lead him to the dance floor, just in front of the stage the band is standing on, and turn to face him expectantly. When he doesn’t immediately move, you lean in and whisper, “You do know how to dance, right?”

He almost looks affronted, “ _Yes_ , I know how to dance, but -” he cuts himself off, clearing his throat as he finally settles his hands on your waist. He won’t meet your eyes, which is problematic for your plan, but you swear you see his cheeks darken. Maybe it’s a trick of the light? “What is it that you’re thinking of because you’ve got that look on your face.”

You lean back in mock offense, “What look?”

His eyes finally meets yours and _oh_ the way they make you melt: there’s so much softness in the way he’s regarding you, a light twinkling in those dark eyes that reminds you of starlight. “Like you’re about to drag me into trouble.”

“I do not drag you into trouble,” you protest as Poe finally relaxes a little and you begin to more than just sway to the music as the band revs up the tune. Within seconds, you’re circling each other, holding on by your fingertips, never breaking your gaze, “If anything, you drag _me_ into trouble. It’s practically your thing. I don’t engage unless I’m provoked, y’know.”

You both step back into each other’s gravity. Poe’s eyelids are lowered as you stare up at him, chin up as you silently challenge him to argue the fact. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he tells you with a laugh. Your jaw goes slack but before you can say anything more, he’s twirling you away from him in time to the music.

When he pulls you back in, you’re not quite ready for it and you stumble into his chest. He catches you gently, one hand on your waist, the other on your shoulder. Maybe it’s because none of this feels real, but you fix him with a smirk, “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you and I both know that’s the _biggest_ lie you’ve ever told.” 

“Are you saying I’m full of it?” You retort, smiling.

Poe shakes his head, looking heavenward. “What’re you thinking?”

You quickly relay your plan to Poe, chewing nervously on your bottom lip while he takes it in. After a long pause, he nods once, “Alright. If you’re sure about this.”

“I am,” you say, and something burns in the starlight in his eyes.

A few minutes later, the two of you are stumbling through the crowd, laughing and unable to keep each other’s hands off each other. His hand slips inside your jacket, pulling you flush as you walk back towards the door you need, and you begin to question if this really was a good idea because you’re finding it really hard to breathe and your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest -

And then you’re out of view of the dance floor and Poe draws back immediately, leaving you feeling bereft. He looks breathless, but motions at the hallway in an ‘after you’ gesture. You nod shakily, heading off in the direction you assume the control terminal will be. Poe’s one step behind you the entire time, looking behind you every few seconds to make sure no one’s followed you.

The control room is at the end of the hall and the door’s locked. You whip out your set of tools from inside your coat and begin to work on fixing that. It’s so easy you don’t have to think about what you’re doing, muscle memory quickly taking over, and you can’t help but think back to what it was like to have Poe that close, to have been flirting easily with him on the dance floor…

The door slides open with a _shick_ but you don’t put your tools away; you’ll need them to retrieve the data the Resistance needs. You step inside and are surprised to find the room empty. “One locked door is all these guys keep on this stuff?” Poe asks, entering behind you. “With all the credits they’re sitting on?”

You’re already set up at one of the terminals, searching for the records you need. “They probably weren’t expecting their records to get broken into, Poe. Most of their efforts would be centered on a vault...got it!” You quickly transfer the data into a chip and show it to Poe with a flourish, grinning widely. “What’d I say? In and out.”

Poe hums in acknowledgment, offering his hand for you to take. “We’re not out of the woods yet, sweetheart. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” 

“Sweetheart?” You question as he leads you out of the room. He throws you a smile over his shoulder and counters with, “‘ _Love?_ ’”

You start to reply but you crash into Poe’s back before you can, since he stops abruptly and you hear him mutter, “Dammit.” You can barely get a look around him to catch a glimpse at the approaching guard before he’s pushing you the opposite way, past the records room and further down into the twisting hallway.

Which, of course, leads to a dead end.

“Great,” you say, throwing your hands up. “Any other ideas?”

Poe looks around, but there aren’t any rooms around for you to hide inside. Then he goes still and slowly turns on his heel to face you, expression apologetic. “Just one, but you’re not gonna like it.”

You narrow your eyes, “What are you - oh,” you choke out when he very pointedly looks at your lips. You fix your mouth wordlessly a few times, but the growing noise of the guard’s footsteps snaps you out of your trance, “Do it.”

He crosses to you quickly, but as he moves into your space, Poe hesitates a little. Then, he’s cupping your jaw with one hand and the other is on your hip pulling you close, and his mouth meets yours. 

You slide a hand around his neck, pulling him down closer to you. He guides you backward til your back presses against a wall, and he draws your bottom lip into his mouth. You respond by tugging lightly on his curls, which draws out a low hum from him that sends goosebumps along your arms. He squeezes your hip, fingertips meeting bare skin from where your button-up had ridden up from stretching up to meet him, as he aligns your bodies better together -

“Hey! This corridor’s off-limits, find somewhere else to do that.”

You break apart, but Poe doesn’t step back from you as he twists to nod at the guard, “Sorry, man. We’ll just finish this up back on our ship. C’mon, sweetheart.” His voice is rough as he proffers you his hand. You take it, managing to fix the guard with what you hope is an apologetic smile.

As you dart around the corner, you hear the guard mutter something about lovebirds, but you do your best to ignore it, even though all you can focus on is how seconds ago, you were kissing your best friend - and how _real_ it felt.

Without meeting his gaze, you say, “You were wrong, by the way. I _did_ like it.”


End file.
